I love the sound of the year "twenty-ten." It no longer sounds awkward, but it has a feel like we have really arrived in the 21st century. We are no longer newcomers. We are established and running in this century. Time goes fast. Those of you who are young may not quite understand, but the older you grow the faster it goes.
Which is why I want to write to you about stillness today. I have a lot to do this week. I feel pressured, and a little frenzied. Getting back into a routine after the holidays actually feels good. Regular schedules, common food (finally the Christmas cookies are gone!) (Oh wait, last night I baked a new batch of chewy oatmeal cookies from the dough I had left over in the fridge). Well, almost, I got into my routine after-the-holiday-diet.
Anyway, after reviewing my journal from last year's vacation, I came across this one entry where I was expressing heightened frustration. I remember it well. Though hidden within its message, ultimately it is a story about stillness, and taking the time to connect to the Almighty God. See what you think:
I had the map! I could see it was better to go from route 5 to highway 8 to get to our destination. They, on the other hand (those in control of the steering wheel and the advisory team in the back seat) took another path, one that was circuitous, windy, and crowded. In the end we sort of fell onto route 5, eventually merging onto highway 8, where we could have been if they had listened to me.
I could have saved them a lot of time and frustration, but "nobody listens to me." I sat quietly, but my insides were churning,thick as butter. It occurred to me that I said this alot - "Nobody listens to me." Or my public version, "Don't listen to me, after all I am holding the map," promptly bringing the response, "Yeah, Mom, poor you,nobody listens to you." Okay, maybe I deserve that.
I tried to distract myself by continuing my read through the Bible, but I was trudging through the Old Testament and the the story was tediously the same. God was forever sending His children messages through His prophets to turn back and follow Him, and Him alone. He would say, "Don't go that way, go this way," or "Don't do that, follow my way." They repeatedly ignored these words bringing years of destruction, eventual repentance and repair only to fall back into that pattern again.
I thought myself, "Just how stupid can these people be? Don't they know they can avoid so much trouble if they simply do what God is telling them to do?" But like my people that day, they had a mind of their own and wanted to try it their way first. "So much unnecessary pain" is all I could say.
Back to my lame-duck position in the front seat of the car where I sat nursing my grudge, I couldn't be distracted from the current logjam we were experiencing on the road (which we might have avoided had they listened to me).I began to hear a voice, the still-small-voice kind that sounded like a close friend who was reading with me over my shoulder: "They don't listen to Me either."
I chuckled aloud. How funny to hear God speak in this familiar way.
"Oh, good morning, Lord, how are you today?" I said in response. Then thinking that now that I had His attention (or was it, He had mine?) I began to ask Him about our plans for the day.
"Which way should we go? What's the best attraction to visit first? What's the weather going to be like?" Etc, etc. But of course, there was only silence.
After a few seconds,I became still, feeling a little embarrassed. He felt so present. In an instance, I had experienced the other side to my quandary. I wanted to get the answers to my questions, and hadn't even considered being still and listening to Him. He didn't want to talk to me about my plans right then. I sensed more than knew that He just wanted to share this moment of frustration with me, frustration at the waywardness of His children, frustration that they don't listen to Him either.
I felt like a channel of frustration through which God could be heard and understood. And why not? I needed to be heard and considered. Why wouldn't He? So I decided to simply allow the feelings to flow between us. I would make a space of stillness and quietness to allow God to be heard and understood though me. I know this sounds strange, but it made perfect sense to me at the time. I am no prophet, and I certainly did not have an audience to share this profoundly simple experience with ("Hey guys, God just spoke to me and He's frustrated to about not being listened to. Isn't that cool?)
But it seemed enough, to be with God experiencing the same emotion, and if only for a moment to connect with Him in such a personal way. It made a difference to me to know God understood my frustration and I His. We felt like friends.
I know this was an authentic experience because it changed me. Even now, months later, as I run into His presence to ask Him about the plans for my busy days, occasionally I am reminded of that day in the front seat of the car. And I remember what it felt like for God to stand by and watch His own kids make their paths through trafficky places, thorny and aligned with frustration. He could have helped them. He has the map. Heck, He created the map and had it leather bound. And I hear again the frustration echoing down the corridors of the Old Testament, "If only they would listen to Me."
Not often, but at least now, sometimes, I turn my ear to Him and ask, "What do You want to talk about today?" My paths seem secondary at that moment. I know He'll let me know the way in which I should go, but for now I hear His heart lovingly beating the words, "Just be with Me." My soul settles down and I share some of the best moments of my day with my best Friend.
